Only today, after many restless hours, am I able to give my report. The master was also unable to come to the rehearsal on Friday; excruciating pain and a terrible night with a fever forced him to stay home. Hans Richter, who before the rehearsal began, while we were sitting together over coffee, probably noticed that I didn’t feel like leaving, said: “Well, aren’t you coming?” I replied: “I probably won’t be needed, since all the props absolutely necessary for the arrangement rehearsal are missing.” Niemann and Betz are to dominate the scene; just let the gentlemen do their thing. I know for certain that when Wagner comes, he’ll turn everything upside down anyway. Richter said, “You know it’s the master’s wish that you be present.” I went and quietly sat backstage with the piano score. Everyone was arranging things—machine master Brandt, Niemann, and Betz—but they couldn’t agree on how it should be done.
On Saturday morning, the master greeted me with a swollen face and clearly worn down by the sleepless nights. “My dearest friend,” he said, “I must and will go to the rehearsal today. You will sit beside me, and since I cannot speak aloud, you will be my interpreter.” We sat down together and took the piano score of Die Walküre in hand. He meticulously transcribed entrances, positions, and exits for me, right down to the notes. At 5 o’clock I was already at the theater to instruct Anton Seidl so that he could conduct the entrances at the relevant points according to the score. I informed Brand of the master’s changes, as well as everyone else involved. The master arrived, the rehearsal began, and just as I had imagined, it happened. Wagner forgot all his pain, jumped up and down the high rocks, rearranged things as best he could, and completely rearranged everything. The doctor remarked, “This procedure could very well benefit his health. He’s working himself to the bone and is undergoing a kind of horse cure [1].”
The horse Grane is playing a role today. Brünnhilde led it, as she should, slowly over rocky ground. In the third scene, in which Brünnhilde has imply to Siegmund that he will fall in the fight with Hunding, Wagner felt that the horse would distract attention from the highly important and indeed magnificent scene. I agreed with him. Although the arrangement of the scene was very beautiful, and it would be regrettable if the image were not supported by Grane, the scene was far too important, too highly dramatic, not to raise all concerns. It is entirely possible that the animal, unsettled by some unpredictable incident, could ruin the entire scene. Therefore, Grane stays away; Brünnhilde appears alone. The end of the second act will be good. The fight between Siegmund and Hunding takes place high up, on mountain heights, shrouded in clouds; Lightning momentarily illuminates it. Wotan steps in at the critical moment, the sword splinters and Siegmund falls. Brünnhilde escapes to pick up Sieglinde, who remained below. Grane appears with Brünnhilde. Everything disappears in clouds and steam. It was most interesting and comical when, at the words, “Do not resist the kiss of the forsaken woman,” Scheffsky didn’t throw herself fervently enough into Siegmund’s arms. Wagner showed her how it’s done; in an instant, little Wagner was hanging from the neck of great Niemann so hard that he almost staggered, Wagner’s toes barely touching the ground at that moment.
He sang the relevant passage, turned Siegmund around, and said, “Here you two switch places at the same time.” Wagner let go, and as he passed me, he said, “Women don’t like doing that; they think they won’t get a husband.” At that very moment, Hunding joined in: “Wehwalt, Wehwalt, stand with me in battle.”
“Good Lord, that fellow opens his mouth,” said Wagner. It was quite frightening to watch the vigor with which Wagner now led the fight high on the mountaintop. Niemann turned away: “Good heavens, if only he would come down; if he falls, it’s all over.” But he didn’t fall; he leaped into the valley like a chamois, his swollen cheek still bound by cotton wool and a thick cloth.
Wagner is and remains one of the strangest phenomena. To the young musicians who had settled backstage with their piano scores, he said in passing: “Do you really have to have those old scores in your hands? Can’t you already know it by heart?” When Betz (Wotan) asked him how he should position himself: “Where does Fricka enter?” Wagner replied: “On the left, the devil always comes from the left.”
Today’s Sunday closing was so wonderfully extraordinary that I want to try to describe it. Professor Wilhelmj had invited the entire “crew” eight days ago to a barrel of wine to a “forest feast”. Everyone should bring their own drinking vessel. The continuous rain all week had thwarted the idea of camping and drinking in the woods. At midday, Professor Wilhelmj called out to me from his apartment window: “The rendezvous is today in the Festhalle” (the restaurant at the Wagner Theater).
Unger and his bride, Miss Marie Haupt, picked me up at 4:30, and upon arriving at the festival hall, we found one of our black rehearsal notice boards hanging up. It read: “The ‘rehearsal’ scheduled for 5:00 will not take place in the woods, but in the upper hall of the festival hall.” The rehearsals were already in full swing, with drinks of all sizes poured into glasses. The tables were set for 10-12 people. Fine wine was being served from carafes. At a table across the front sat Wilhelmj and his brother, Hans Richter, Unger with his bride, the three Rhine maidens, the young music directors, and myself.
The toasts began, the first to Wilhelmj’s father, whose birthday was announced at the same time, the second to Wagner, made by Hans Richter, in which he had those present express his greetings and his regret that he could not be with them today. Of the other toasts, I only want to mention the one from Kreutzbergs from Dessau (orchestra). He recited a rhyme about Hans Richter:
Ein Hoch dem Mann, (A toast to the man,)
Der uns voran, (who is ahead)
Ein Hoch dem Mann, (A toast to the man,)
Der drauf und dran, (who is about)
Ein Hoch dem Mann, (A toast to the man,)
Der Alles kann. (who can do it all).
Ihr frage: „Der Mann (You ask: „This man)
Wie heißt er?“ (what is his name?”)
„‘S ist unser Kapellmeister“ (“he’s our musical director”)
I also spoke, and I think I embarrassed myself with my oratorical skills, even though I was greeted and dismissed with cheers. I had stood on a chair and began as follows:
“Jean Paul says, ‘Man climbs a mountain like a child climbs a chair to be closer to nature, to his mother’s breast.’ I climb onto a chair to be taller, and I also allow myself to offer a toast, a toast to all those—and we all surely belong to that group—who are deeply moved, whose hearts beat faster at the thought: ‘You too are granted the privilege of living in this great age, of contributing to this monumental work, each in your own way.’ And in this joy, I empty my glass!”
Many were already so drunk on the fine Rhine wine that they couldn’t understand me anymore; they told me so themselves. What followed defies description. The excitement, the inherently heavy wine, and the 25-degree heat—everything combined quickly to drive us all wild. There were fraternizations, tears flowed, and the rest is silence…
At 11 o’clock I spoke to Wagner and his wife, and already the rumor mill was churning. Wagner was beside himself and furious with Wilhelmj and Hans Richter. I offered an excuse, explaining that the tavern, the heat, and the heavy wine were conducive to such behavior. Wagner replied, “Wilhelmj and Richter should have known better, that you shouldn’t serve such a heavy, fine dessert wine at a banquet.” Frau Cosima had even been told that all the glasses had been smashed. I hadn’t seen any of this and hadn’t heard anything about it until now.
At today’s rehearsal, I welcomed Ms. Jachmann-Wagner, who will be portraying a Valkyrie and one of the Norns. I found it particularly interesting to try out the newly constructed Laterna magica, which not only projects the image of the Valkyries riding past onto the back wall, but also, with a simple device, creates powerful flashes of light. The images of the Valkyries passing by are not yet finished. I am very eager to see the effect they will have.
[1] drastic treatment